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“And in order to keep this level of trust, this level of loyalty, changes must happen.” I finish tying my bloody hand and pull the knot tight with my teeth not bothering to wipe away the drops of blood on the counter. I hoped that shit stained.
“And so it is with this pressing need for change that I brought you all together to announce a change in Knight industries leadership. A change I hope will support the foundation of Knight Industries in a way this family-owned business not only desires but needs.” I suppress a sigh, father was still rambling on about all that self-righteous bullshit he loves so much. This man sure does like to hear himself talk. My father turns towards me then, his eyes burning me to the spot and I blame the wave of panic that washes through me on the vodka.
“As you all know my son has been successfully running his own underground games for the past few years now. I’m sure you all have heard of The Drunk Fish.” A murmur goes through the crowd as heads slowly begin turning in my direction. Lethal curiosity rimming their power-hungry eyes. I back up a step, my thighs slamming into one of the barstools. Panic stabs me in the heart. What the hell is he doing?
“And so it is with great pride that I announce that my son, Kaleb will be taking his rightful place and joining the family business.” I freeze. Ice fills my veins and my heart stops.
No no no no no.
Fury fills me and the next thing I know I’m walking forward, feet moving of their own accord, slamming my fist into my father's face. He looks up, his eyes widening in surprise and before he can even so much as blink, I slam another fist into his jaw. My father’s head rings back and the next time he looks at me it’s with murder in his eyes.
“I will not work for you. I will never work for you.” I growl. Everyones staring at us now and I feel their eyes on me like a second skin. Like we’re some cheap entertainment offered to them at their local mall. I don’t give a fuck. Let them watch. I would never give him that power over me. For as long as I drew breath. For as long as I was on this fucked up burning earth. I’d die before I let that happen.
He grabs me by the shirt before lifting me to meet his eyes,
“You will work for me. You will fucking work for me because I own you” He spits and I shove him away, already reaching for my car keys,
“You don't own me!” I scream as the black box shrinks around my bones. This house is impossibly suffocating.
“You are family Kaleb. I own you for life. That's what family is.” He growls reaching for me again,
“Fuck you!” I yell before grabbing my car keys and storming out the door. The black wood slamming against its hinges.
I hop into my Ford 150 and start the engine. He follows me, ripping the door open, his face a sea of anger. I promptly ignore him and reach to turn up the radio. Idfc by Blackbear starts playing, drowning out his obnoxious yelling.
I have no idea where the fuck I am going. I just know I have to get away. And so, with that goal on the brain, I peel out making sure to spin donuts in the pristine freshly paved driveway as I do. My middle finger making an appearance in both my rearview mirrors as I roll down the window and slam out of the driveway.
The black mansion nothing but a smudge in my rearview mirror.
Chapter 11
Rose
I used to like living alone. Now that was taken from me. Ripped from my hands and replaced with a bucket of fear and panic. At this point it felt like the world was trying to crush me. Test me until it found out that I could indeed break. Shatter like a cheap holiday ornament in the clearance section at Ross.
Hey, might as well add to my burden at this point, I was already dying from the sheer weight of the dang thing.
Restless, I stare at the bowl of chicken noodle soup currently swirling around in my microwave. My gourmet dinner for the night. Usually, I enjoyed nights like these. I could veg out on the couch and heat up a simple meal while not having to worry about dressing up or appearing a certain way. I could look like a mess as I gorged on takeaway pizzas and got sucked into a vampire-filled reality courtesy of Netflix binge-watching. Now I find myself staring at my door, more specifically at the new pad lock I had installed earlier.
I could barely look at myself in the mirror this morning.
My right eye was hideously swollen. The skin around my eye looked like someone had taken a plum and smashed it against the socket. Not to mention I could barely open my left eye and it was only after repeated attempts that I realized it was going to be swollen shut for at least a couple of days. I felt blind.
Blindsided.
Like a mouse who had been tricked into being caged and could no longer escape from the deadly prison of its own making. A trap formed from their own foolish broken choices. And it was only a matter of time before the clock ran out and the string tethering them to life got cut.
Slight bruising also covered my jaw and wrists from where they had grabbed me, and to be honest I don't even want to know what my side looks like. It already hurt like hell and breathing deeply was out of the question.
So it was safe to say I’ve been avoiding mirrors all day.
Work was also off the table for the moment. When I called out at the quirky bookshop this morning Morise nearly had my head. It probably won't be long until she decides I’m not worth the trouble and gives up on me. Sighing, I look briefly at our worn kitchen table, the pile of bills leaning over like the tower of pizza haunting me. A toppling mess I really wish would just fall over onto the ground. The fact that they remained upright and I could barely move did not escape my irony. I probably should have gone to the hospital but knew we couldn't afford it so I stayed home like the fool I was slowly becoming.
Beep. Beep. The microwave goes off and I shut down my self-pity moment. I would be lucky if I got any sleep tonight and after hiding away in the tiny apartment all day and I’m glad for the brief reprieve some sexy vampire-filled tv was going to give me.
Grabbing a spoon for my soup I hobble over to the worn brown couch at the center of my apartment and press play on my laptop. The sounds of someone's head being ruthlessly ripped off fills the small space and I immediately feel comforted. Anyone who says Vampire Diaries isn't top-tier material head wasn't screwed on right. Who didn't want violence tossed in with sarcastic banter like a light summer vinaigrette on an overpriced salad? The combination was chef's kiss in my opinion, and being the stubborn girl I am, there was no changing my mind on the matter.
I wince adjusting my legs into a seated position, a sudden sharp pain shooting up my side. My side really was bothering me which pissed me off. I was alone and cracked in this twisted fairytale tower and now I have to bite down on my tongue just to keep from crying out in pain.
